


Of Monsters And Men

by me_meron_pan



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Banana Fish Angst Week 2019, Drama, Gen, Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-05 12:39:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17325158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/me_meron_pan/pseuds/me_meron_pan
Summary: Haunting memories, lingering pain.A collection of drabbles for Banana Fish Angst Week 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My drabble for the first day turned out shorter and less eloquent as planned, next one's gonna be better!
> 
> Day 1: Forget
> 
> Thanks to lovely Myka who's hosting this even! <3

**Day 1: Forget**   
  
  
  
_Loud creaking, low grunts and moans lingering in his ears. He could feel the weight above him, warm, sweaty skin pressing against him. The rope cut into his skin, pale wrists growing red and irritated under the constant friction from trying to get away._

_The boy struggled, his breaths shallow and hitched as he felt his heart ache with each thrust._

_The heat felt unbearable, his muscles twitching uncontrollable as his body contorted._

  
_Fear._   
  
_He wanted to get away._   
  
_Far, far away._

 

_Where to go?_   
  
_No way out._

 

_''The more you struggle, the more it turns him on.'' he heard the other chuckle, resting only inches from them as he watched on. Leisurely twirling a strand of his long, raven hair around his finger._

 

_''やめてください!'' he begged, over and over again._

 

_''He won't understand you if you keep talking japanese, Ei-chan.'', Yut-Lung snickered in an amused manner, secretly at ease over the fact that he had taken his turn already._

 

 _''Relax, this is what Ash has gone through at an age much younger than you, it's not a big deal~''_  
  
The words echoed through his head as he shot up in his bed, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. Black strands of hair stuck to his face, to his neck, wet from sweat as he tried to catch his breath.

 

It was a dream.  
Just a dream and yet, Eiji knew he'd never forget what had happened that night.

He couldn't tell anyone, especially not Ash.

 

 _''Relax, this is what Ash has gone thorugh at an age much younger than you, it's not a big deal.''_  
  
  
He felt nauseous, uncomfortable pressure spreading up from his stomach, fear and disgust pressing down on his chest.  
The pain he felt as he remembered that old man pushing into him, imagining what Ash must've felt like back then.   
  
Eiji felt pathetic for being so weak, couldn't hold tears back as his gaze lingered on Ash who was sleeping peacefully for once.

He feard any movement might wake him up, rip his friend out of that calm state.

 

''I am pathetic...'' he mumbled to himself, arms wrapping around his body as he tried to calm his senses.

 

For a moment it was as if he could taste the red wine on his lips, could smell the scent of cigars mixed into Golzine's breath as images flashed up before his eyes.

 

_''Relax, this is what Ash has gone through at an age much younger than you, it's not a big deal~''_

 

That sentence burned on his tongue as if it was a piece of hot coal, slowly searing it's way into his body.

Leaving an imprint on for the rest of his life. Nights like this would repeat, over and over again.

There was no way out, nowhere to run from those memories.

 

_He'd never forget._

 


	2. Day 2: Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LATE BUT STILL! Work kept me busy for so long, I barely made it in time!  
> Anyway, here's my short for BF Angst Week!   
> Please, suffer! <3

It was a warm spring morning with birds in the trees and a fresh breeze sweeping through the streets.  
A perfect saturday.

The market was filled with people from all around, Buddy close to his side as he had made sure to have gotten everything from his list.

Freshly caught shrimps, salad and tomatoes from the garden of one of their neighbours. With Ash's favorite pastries in the basket as well, Eiji had gathered everything he'd need for their breakfast on the porch.

They had planned this many months ago, back in autumn when the world around them was touched by reds and oranges.

 

Buddy would follow wherever Eiji went and so he sat in the kitchen right next to him as Eiji prepared their breakfast.   
He had decorated the round, wooden table with the tablecloth Ash liked so much. He had complained about it first, giving him a strange look as Eiji had pointed it out in the store years ago but eventually warmed up to it as time passed by.

They had a lot to compromise about when they first moved into their own home. Ash liked dark furniture, leather preferably. Eiji leaned more towards brighter colors, plants and pictures scattered around the rooms.

Eventually they had found a mix between both their preferences but not without bickering about this and that.

Small fights or louder discussions didn't mean anything to them, all that mattered was that they could spend time with each other.

 

With their breakfast prepared, the table on the porch decorated and everything put in place, Eiji made his way up to their bed room, the door giving a soft creak as he popped his head through the gap. Buddy of course, following.

He looked over to his lover, his blonde hair a wild mess between the sheets.

Ash had never been a morning person.

 

 _''Ash, honey_... Time to wake up.'' he whispered, seeing his lover shifting positions. With his pale skin, his dark briefs made him stick out between the blankets.

 

''Breakfast's ready.''

 

He knew he had to give his lover some more time, needing a moment to fully wake up. Eiji loved to watch Ash in the morning, his movements rather wonky, tired eyes and uncontrollable bedhair.

 

''Here honey, I brought you the newspaper.'' Eiji chuckled, placing it in front of Ash after he had finally found his way down to the table.

 

_''Thanks, darling.''_

 

Ash hadn't changed at all. He was still the beauty he was when they had first met. Eiji himself had changed quite a lot, his hair having grown in length, round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose now, most of the time.

He was about to sit down as Buddy's barking got their attention, a familiar face passing through their gate.

 

''Oh! Sing! What are you doing here?'' Eiji asked, approaching with a smile.

 

Sing, 23 by now, had changed as well. Never had they thought a shrimp like him would grow to such an impressive height.

 

''Am I wrong on the date again? I thought we decided to have breakfast together today, or not?'' he asked a little confused, his head tilted to the side.   
  
''W-What? Oh, Ash and I had made plans to have breakfast together actually...'' Eiji mumbled a little embarrassed.

 

Ash...

 

''Eiji.''  
  
''But it's no problem! I am sure he wouldn't mind you joning us.''  
  
 _''Eiji.''_  
  
''I even went to the market this morning!''  
  
 **''Eiji!''**  
  
Sing's harsh tone drove a bark out of Buddy, walking up to Eiji's side.   
  
  
  
  
_''Ash is dead.''_  
  
  
  
  
''W-What? N-No, he's... He's right there.'' he stuttered, turning to point at the table.   
  
No one.  
The table was empty, untouched food waiting for someone to come. The news paper still where he had first placed it.   
  
''B-But he was here...''  
  
''Eiji, stop. You're lying to yourself...''  
  
It hadn't been the first time that Eiji had seen Ash.

It hadn't been the first time that Sing had to remind him of that truth.

That harsh truth none of them wanted to face.

 

''He's gone.'' Sing whispered, wrapping his arms around the other.

 

 

 

_''He's nothing but a ghost.''_

 


	3. Be Kind To Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unrequited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another nervous breakdown from Yut-Lung because I can't break down myself! YAY!  
> I hoped to write something longer for today but again, time isn't on my side T v T

Humans cry, it's what they do.   
But he wasn't human, or that's what they had taught him.

  
  


''Don't go, that's an order.''  
  
His words were met with ignorance.

 

''...Go ahead. Go on! Go and join Ash then!''  
  
He stomped his foot, clenched his fists like a little child would do.

Nothing of that mattered to him now.

 

The door closed in front of him and suddenly they were miles apart.

 

''Goodbye Sir, be kind to yourself.''  
  
  
 _Be kind to yourself._  
  


The room seemed so much colder without his presence, the door lingering in its lock, as heavy as steel.

There was no wayout.   
There'd never be.   
  
  
_Be kind to yourself._

 

It was a hysterical laughing fit Yut-Lung fell into, loud and unbridled.

Known to be silent, the whole house could hear him now.   
  


_Be kind to yourself._

 

Laughter turned into screams. Thundering wild and unrestrained.   
His pain wearing the sound of crashing glass and finest chinese porcelain

 

 _Be kind to yourself._   
  
  
Fine cuts on his fingers, blood as cold as the hell only Dante Alighieri could've described better running down his hands.

He didn't feel any of it.   
  
Be kind to yourself.

 

''Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you, Blanca!''

 

The childish pattern repeated itself, making it clear to everyone around just how young the master truly was as his firey rage turned into icy grief.

He had been left alone again.

That monste he described himself to be, broken, fragile, weak.

Cowering in the ramains of anger, his true-face reflecting in the broken shards of glass around him.

 

Tears.

Tears spent years unclaimed. Resting, lingering behind the wall of hate he had built up around himself.  
If Blanca could see through this wall, why had he never felt his master's love?  
  


  
_Be kind to yourself._

 


	4. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was one of those nights she'd spend on her own, writing unanswered letters to someone she used to know.  
> She had kept them all. Sealed away in a little box right underneath the kitchen sink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really needed some Wong-siblings in here! I am very sad they cut out all those lovely Nadia moments from the manga, she was such a great woman.   
> Anyway, my prompt for this free day is Letters!

****Rain was crashing onto the streets, cool air hitting her face as she leaned against the open doorframe, cigarette between her lips.

There wasn't anything to look at other than the red brick wall as she waited for the stray cats to finish the leftover meat she had given them mere minutes ago.

It was one of those nights she'd spend on her own, writing unanswered letters to someone she used to know.

She had kept them all. Sealed away in a little box right underneath the kitchen sink.   
Why the sink?   
She didn't know herself. Maybe it was his weird habit of placing his normal shoes there whenever he'd take over kitchen shift.

It took her months to open the small cabinet again, knowing they wouldn't be there anymore.

The first time she did however, it was as if she could hear his voice, heard his laughter behind her back.

He had lived here once and it was as if he still did whenever her fingers would touch the cool tin box.   
It had an old cartoon character on it, a dog wearing sunglasses. It used to be his favorite when he was a kid.

 

_''Dear Brother,_

 

 _Everyone misses you. Even the strays in the back alley you used to feed all the time.''_  
  
  
  
It was just one of many unfinished letters she had written to him but never sent.   
Her thin fingers flipped through more of those old envelopes with wrinkly handwriting on it.

 

_''Dear Sis,_

 

_Thanks for writing me letters and sending me treats!_

_I thought I'd use the chance to apologize for what I've gotten into._   
_Y'know, taking your advice and doing the opposite, I know I haven't been all that you could've hoped for...''_   
  


He had written that letter in his first month of reform school. Most letters of those times were filled with useless apologies from him.   
How she wished now she would've told him that there was no need to apologize to her back then.  
She could feel the heat of the cigarette's stub coming closer, warming her cold fingers as there was no pain.

Nadia had always been proud of her brother.   
  
No matter how bad his chinese food was, no matter how loud or rude he spoke. No matter how untidy his room was.  
  


After discarding the burned down cigarette to the side of the back alley, taking one more between her lips, her fingers came across an old picture.   
  


That warm smile, his horrendous clothes and that purple mohawk she had laughed at over and over again.

It read ''Happy Day'' on the back, a rush of memories falling over her.

 

The world around her had grown so very silent ever since that day. Her food had never tasted the same again.   
Nadia remembered that time she tried one of his own recipes which he had written across a newspaper in the rush of excitement over his 'grand idea'.  
It had tasted horrible.

Not that she would've expected anything else from his recipe...

She had spent that night bent over the toilet, sick to her stomach as she tried to forget what Ash had told her about his death.

It had taken her months to get him to talk, had taken her only seconds to regret her choice.

 

Aside from letters, the box was filled with small trinkets of his. His keyring which he had left behind the day he vanished off together with Ash and the others. His old pair of sunglasses he used to wear before Nadia had gotten him new ones. Old piercings.

 

  
_''Dear Brother,_

_Sing has grown, he's almost your size now. The restaurant's going well, Charlie and I got married not long ago.''  
_  
  
Criss, cross. Another unfinished letter went into the bin.   
  
  
_''Dear Brother,_  
  
 _I hope you're with our parents now... and Ash. I've been wanting to go see you many times before but I can't leave Sing.''_  
  
  
It was a rainy night. A lonely one. Filled with unfinished letters to which she would never get an answer anyway.

Slender fingers sealed the tin box again, putting it back under the kitchen sink after pressing a soft kiss to it's cool surface.   
  
  
  
_''Goodnight, brother.''_

 


	5. Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a time Blanca thought he could escape it all.  
> A time where he could feel his heart start beating, a comfortable silk of warmth wrapping around him.  
> It was a time in which he dared to dream, dared to imagine a future brighter than anthing else.  
> Later on it felt as if he should've known how very foolish it had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed out yesterday because work made me really tired and I fell asleep the moment I decided to sit on my bed for a second q v q   
> Anyway, BF Angst Week is almost over and I loved it so far! ; v;

There was blood on his hands. There had always been, from an early age on.

How old had he been back then? How many candles were burning on the cake when he was taken away?  
He didn't remember.

The first time he had killed someone however, was something he could recall clear as day.

Experience had told him that the rain would wash the blood away, his conscience however, made the blood sticking to his hands hard to forget.

A grey, grey sky, raining down on him as the sea of red beneath his shoes spread out, thinning away into nothingness.   
The only evidence that had remained were the dead bodies but even those would soon disappear and there'd be no trace of what he had done.

Just like their anguished screams, their begs for mercy, or their blood streaming into the manhole, their bodies too would just disappear.

There'd be not a single trace of them left. No evidence of what he had done.

It was always the same.   
They'd give orders, he'd carry them out, there'd be blood on his hands forever, his heart an empty shell until the ever repeating nightmare of ending lifes soon turned into a dull everyday task.

 

There was a time Blanca thought he could escape it all.

A time where he could feel his heart start beating, a comfortable silk of warmth wrapping around him.

It was a time in which he dared to dream, dared to imagine a future brighter than anthing else.

Later on it felt as if he should've known how very foolish it had been.

 

When his gaze set on her soft frame for the first time, wind blowing through her blonde hair. How the fresh breeze played with that flowy dress she wore that day. Her laughter filling his ears.

Green eyes, fair skin.

She was the epitome of beauty to him.

Not only by looks alone, it was her kind way of speaking, her soft way of touching his skin. The way her arms wrapped around his sturdy frame ever so gently, bringing that stone heart of his back to life.

How she called him by his name, love in every word she spoke.

When they got married, Sergei even dared to dream about their shared life, about a daughter as beautiful as his wife, somewhere far away from this awfully cold country.

She made him forget about the blood on his hands.

 

It was her death which made his heart forget how to beat again, freezing the blood in his veins when he had received the news.

 

It wasn't until he met this other person.

Green eyes, fair skin.

A sharp tongue and wit only few could withstand.

He remembered the moment he had first laid eyes on him.

A slender boy with a fragile frame, sturdier than anything he'd ever seen. His shirt ripped, pants undone and pulled down to reaveal even more of his fair skin.

Although violated by both, his teacher and his father figure, Ash wouldn't back down, standing his ground against those who tried to bring him down.

 

Compared to Natasha, Ash turned out to be the complete opposite and still, they felt so very familiar.

Loud, determined, never backing down from a fight.

There was a saying of how curiousity killed the cat, and just like that, Blanca had found himself falling into the same charm he had fallen for when he had first met his wife.

Beauty and strength, both executed in two very different ways.

 

There was blood on his hands as his eyes lingered on the letter he had received from Yut-Lung.

His blood, cool liquid dripping down his opened arms.

Maybe it was in an attempt to make himself feel something again, maybe it was in an attempt to flee this seemingly never ending nightmare.

One last time, his eyes wandered over the words Yut-Lung had written to him in this elegant and cursive handwriting of his, sticking over one particular sentence.

 

_''Ash Lynx is dead.''_

 

 

 


	6. Violence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stars weren't in his favor.  
> There was no answer.
> 
> No smile.
> 
> What would Shorter have done in his position?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one cause I couldn't quite get into both of these prompts, though I feel my last one with Blanca would have fit Self-harm as well!   
> Anyway, I needed more Sing in here so have some Sing-Angst!...kinda.

When Sing was six, he had gotten into his first fight.

It was over a comment of a boy at the playground and he still remembered how mad Nadia had gotten at him when she found out.

But Sing didn't care back then. Shorter would've done the same.

No one would make a comment on his skin or eyes without getting it.

He wasn't gonna back down.   
Strong and cool, just like Shorter.

 

Sing had always looked up to him, aiming to be loyal, aiming to protect the people he loved.

 

At the age of eight, Sing's arm broke when Lao was attacked by some street punks, way taller than both of them.   
With a metal pipe in hand, Sing jumped at them without hesitation, loud and angry, yelling at the top of his lungs.

They had quickly taken the upper hand in the fight, twisting Sing's arm beyond the norm. They vanished before getting in trouble and Sing felt as if he had fought them off just fine.

Shorter would've done the same.

 

Sing had turned twelve, the day Shorter had finally agreed on taking him to the boxing training for the first time.

 

''You gotta grow big and strong to protect the ones who are dear to you, right? But never use your skills for something stupid, right?''

 

Ever since then, Sing had kept up his training. Eager to grow as much as possible. Be able to protect his family.

 

He was 14 when the senseless killing started, when he felt weak and clueless for the first time. 14 when Lao started distancing himself from him.

It took him 14 years to realize how useless violence was, how much it broke instead of what it saved.

 

''Shorter, what am I supposed to do?'' he whispered under his breath as he looked up to sky, longing for an answer, or even just an uplifting smile.

The stars weren't in his favor.  
There was no answer.

No smile.

What would Shorter have done in his position?  
How would he have managed all of this?

 

''It's useless, right?''  
  


 


	7. Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One hand wrapped around his dog, the other wandered up to the second pillow next to his own in this bed of his which was way too big for just him.  
> His hand reached out for that familiar feeling of photo paper under his fingertips, bony fingers pulling out the old and wrinkled picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short goodbye to BF Angst Week! I enjoyed writing more angst although I wish the week wouldn't have been as stressful as it was. Work kept me from going all out sadly!   
> I enjoyed it nontheless!   
> Thanks Myka for hosting this event! <3

There were many days Eiji wished to forget.   
Wished to forget, wished to wake up in the morning without tears in his eyes.  
Buddy was softly snorring next to him, his golden fur shimmering in the soft morning sun. Eiji wiped a tear, sniffled once, then twice before wiping some more tears.   
He felt Buddy's warm, soft tongue brush over his cheek as he shuffled closer to his human.   
His dog always sensed the mood, sensed when Eiji's heart felt heavier than usual. 

One hand wrapped around his dog, the other wandered up to the second pillow next to his own in this bed of his which was way too big for just him.  
His hand reached out for that familiar feeling of photo paper under his fingertips, bony fingers pulling out the old and wrinkled picture.

Eiji's eyes wandered over the image, more tears collecting in the corners of his eyes. It was one of his favorite pictures of Ash.  
One that would never cease to make him laugh and so even this time, he chuckled through his tears. Ash's surprised face on the image, wearing nothing but some sweatpants and a towel around his head as he prepared a plate of pasta for himself. Licking some leftover pasta sauce off of his thumb, Ash stood right there in that old kitchen.   
Looked alive and well, almost close to Eiji's touch.

Buddy's whining sound got Eiji's attention, his hand wandering to the back of his ear. His soft fur against his cold fingers felt good, soothing some of the pain.

His thoughts lingered on Ash, soft memories of the little carefree days they had spent together rushing back to him.   
It were exactly those memories, memories of seeing Ash smile, hearing him laugh, which were the most painful ones.  
Memories in which Ash felt happy and alive, he felt so very close to him. 

It was hard to accept that sleeping next to a picture of him, would be the closest Eiji would ever get to Ash again.

Who thought that remembering these happy days, realizing how out of reach they were, was more painful than remembering all those dark times?

Losing someone was hard, remembering them daily, even harder.

Death ends a life, not a relationship.


End file.
